Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach.
In Yoruichi's humble opinion, cats had the right of it in how to live your life. They never wasted movement or energy, and it seemed as if they spent all day snoozing, yet they managed to live comfortably and happily; well fed, well groomed and well rested. It was just so effortless, being a cat.
Her favourite part of it was probably what cats did on sunny days. She'd pad outside of the Urahara Shoten and sprawl in the dirt, not minding the sharp bite of little rocks into her side because they were muffled by her thick fur. She'd let the sun soak into her dark pelt, eyes narrowed but not closed, and she'd watch the comings and goings of her house mates.
Kisuke would always chuckle in his enigmatic way when he saw her like this. He'd stand nearby - never more than ten feet away, she counted, but never closer than five. And he'd lean Benihime, in her sheath, on the ground and press it into the dry earth with his weight and laugh at her. Yoruichi never minded much.
Tessai ignored her, but he didn't do it cruelly. He just left her alone, respecting her privacy and all that jazz. Occasionally he'd have to step over her, if she'd chosen to lie in the middle of the front yard and he had to bring in a delivery. His dark shadow would pass over her briefly, bringing with it the mildly spicy scent that seemed to hover around the inside of the shop, as well as the odor of whatever he was carrying - usually a sweet smell, like cookies or candy, if that's what he held, or the sharp tang of reiatsu if it was something for the Soul Society clientele.
If it was Jinta who'd found her, he'd glare and mutter and chuck the occasional small pebble that was a long way off target. Yoruichi wasn't so fond of him, but she tolerated him because he looked after Ururu.
Ururu was Yoruichi's favourite. The young girl reminded her of Soi Fong, in a way; they both had a similar deceptive tininess, and Soi Fong used to possess the mildly subservient hunch that Ururu carried herself with now. When it was Ururu who noticed her, she'd lay down her broom and walk over, dropping to her knees and not mindful of the dust, to pet Yoruichi.
Her thin hands would run in trembling rivulets down Yoruichi's pelt, and she would lean over until Yoruichi could've counted the lashes around her sad eyes. Yoruichi would roll onto her back and redirect Ururu to her stomach, and Yoruichi would receive the simple thrill of pleasure one experienced when Ururu smiled at you.
A purr would work its way up her throat, and she'd nuzzle Ururu's shin as she got up to head back to her work. Cats really could enjoy the simple things in life.
